


It Puts The Caps Back On The Bottles

by astrothsknot



Category: Supernatural
Genre: Blow Job, M/M, Wincest - Freeform
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-08-19
Updated: 2014-08-19
Packaged: 2018-02-13 20:15:55
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,049
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/2163798
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/astrothsknot/pseuds/astrothsknot
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>In which Sam is cranky and Dean is...Dean</p>
            </blockquote>





	It Puts The Caps Back On The Bottles

Title: It Puts The Caps Back On The Bottles  
Author: Astrothsknot  
Fandom: Supernatural  
Pairing: Sam/Dean  
Rating: NC17  
Disclaimer: Kripke’s, not mine  
Prompt: Sam’s cranky and Dean is…well, Dean. For clex_monkie89 because she made me Towel Sammy icons. 

“Goddammit!”

It’s been thirteen hours, 17 minutes and 12 seconds of Sam whining and moaning and just fucking shut up already!!

“It’s not gonna kill you Dean!” Sam stomps out the bathroom, toothbrush in his mouth and foam running down his chin, dripping onto his chest, towel around his waist.

“What, Sammy?” Dean just carries on sharpening his knife, spits lazily on the whetstone.

“Put the tops back on the goddamn bottles!” 

“It just might, Sammy.” The knife goes scrape scrape. “I could be in the shower and a Shuck appears. By the time I get the lid off the shampoo, I’m Pyscho’d in the shower. Eeee, eeee.”

“What the fuck would you need the lid off the shampoo for?”

“I could squirt it in the eyes, blind it, and then stab it.” Dean mimes stabbing an imaginary shuck.

“Dude? The fuck? You’ve been an annoying bastard ever since that Nun put that whammy on us last night.”

“Aw, you love me really, Sammy.” Dean’s cocksure and fucking irritating grin is back in its usual place. It’s taking all Sam’s strength not to stab him with the damn toothbrush.

“I fucking slipped in the shower, asshole, because you’re too lazy to put the cap back on the shower gel.”

Maybe you’ll knock yourself out and I’ll get some peace. That’s not what Dean says though. “Sorry ‘bout that. I was saving the shampoo for the shuck. Wipe your mouth. What are you, four?”

Sam grabs the towel from his waist, swipes at his chest. “And another thi-”

But Dean’s already there, pushing Sam back against the door frame, knocking the breath from him; right into Dean’s mouth when his brother’s lips smash into his, their tongues battling it out. Dean can’t help it - he moans and feels it send shocks through Sam.

Dean’s hands are everywhere, running over the ridges of Sam’s chest, his stomach. Sam jerks as Dean drives Sam crazy, crazier than he’s been under the curse that’s turned his brother into an irritating - no, more irritating than usual - shit. “Kinda quiet now, Sam,” Dean murmurs. “Want me to suck your dick?”

“If it’ll shut you up…” growls Sam.

Dean kisses Sam again, hand snaking around the back of his head, gripping the wet hair, moisture running down his arm as he squeezes. He pulls back slightly, licks the toothpaste away, bites Sam’s lip gently.

Dean moves to Sam’s nipples, but he growls and pushes Dean’s head down. Dean’s never really going to get used to Sam, his little brother, being bigger than he is. “Leave my tits. Just suck my cock, now, dammit!”

Dean grins and drops to his knees. Sam’s half-hard already and Dean knows it not going to be long before he’s all the way there.

Dean’s just the man to get him there.

He takes hold of Sam’s hips, moulding his palms over the sharp bones, circling his thumbs. Dean pauses for a long moment, making his brother wait. Serves the pissy little bitch right.

When Sam tries to thrust against Dean, his hips are stilled by Dean’s hands. “Hot to trot, huh? You need to slow down, Sammy. Take it easy once in a while.”

“Fuck! Dean, c’mon!” 

Dean says nothing, just licks the tip of Sam’s dick. Sam shudders and his breath hitches. Kneeling, Dean flexes his lips around the head, manoeuvring it into his mouth, before grasping it gently with his teeth. The pre-cum starts to leak as Dean rubs the rough side of his tongue over the sensitive slit. 

Sam grips the doorframe, filling it like he’ll be filling Dean’s mouth soon enough. 

Dean licks him like he’s an ice-cream, all flat tongue, working his way down and around, all the while taking Sam deeper into his mouth, working him back into his throat. He’s not started to suck or scrape his teeth gently against the skin of Sam’s dick. “Fuck! Yeah, like that…”

He can’t get all the way down, Sam’s too big for that, so Dean pulls back with a loud, slick pop. “All the way there now Sam, huh?”

Sam looks like he wants to slap him. There’s murder in those blue-green eyes. Dean uses his lips and teeth to nibble and kiss his way down to the base of Sam’s cock, changing the angle every so often, working his way back up. Sam’s really hard now, slit leaking in earnest, twitching every time Dean’s lips pass over the head.

Dean leans back for a moment to look at his work. Sam’s hard and pissed off and turned on all in one go. “Well, Sammy,” Dean says, voice all smoke and whiskey, knowing he’s getting Sam right there. “Look at you, standin’ there beggin’ for it, cock all shiny and slick and ready.”

“Fuck you, Dean. Just blow me already, asshole.” Sam tries to snap this, but it just comes out all needy and breathy.

Dean takes one of his hands from Sam’s hip and starts to massage Sam’s balls, takes Sam back in his mouth, tongue, teeth and lips tight around the begging cock. And it is begging, Dean could swear he’s hearing it.

Or it could just be his brother. 

Dean sucks, cheeks hollowing in the vacuum in his mouth. Down, pause, down, pause, down, pause, down, pause, down, pause and up the same way. On and on, endless rhythm, Sam chanting his name.

It’s not long before he feels his brother’s balls start tightening and Dean pulls them back down with a hard jerk. Sam’s litany’s cut off with a hoarse shout.

Dean sucks a little harder, a little faster, bringing Sam back up to that edge again, before pulling off again with that obscene pop. He goes back over to his bed, flops down, and spits on his whetstone, scraping his knife across it again.

Sam sways slightly on his feet, looks over at Dean, confusion spreading over his face. “Dean?” He breathes. “What the fuck, man?”

“Chill, dude,” Dean says, lazily, innocently. “Next time I’ll put the caps back on the bottles.”


End file.
